


i put a spell on you

by nights



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Blindfolds, Bottom Sokka (Avatar), Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Sokka (Avatar), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Sexual Roleplay, Top Zuko, this is..... this is uhm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nights/pseuds/nights
Summary: Sokka feels two hands at his waist spinning him around and sees a new mask, a tusked devil, red and gold with finned ears. The devil leans close, speaking near Sokka’s ear.“I haven’t gotten to dance with you all night.” Sokka would recognize the voice of his fiancé anywhere.“To whom do I owe this dance?” Sokka asks dramatically, spinning away with a hand outstretched, inviting Zuko to join him. Sokka grins behind his mask.The devil laughs, taking Sokka’s hand. “An admirer.”“A secret admirer?”---Zuko throws a masquerade ball, and then starts getting ideas. Sokka's game for pretty much anything his fiancé thinks up.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 408
Collections: HZH Horny ATLA Fic





	i put a spell on you

**Author's Note:**

> I am not nearly prolific enough to attempt Kinktober, but I've been seeing some uh.... interesting ideas.... so here, have this. It's Halloween themed! Kind of.

“Nice mask, Sokka!” Aang chirps, from behind a mask of his own.

Sokka’s field of vision is cramped, caged in by his blue and white fox mask, but he can still see Aang’s, a green dragon baring a smile.

“Thanks. Although I can’t snack very easily under here,” Sokka complains. Each time a servant passes with a tray of treats, he has to wrangle the morsel under the mask and into his mouth at a much slower pace than preferred.

The palace is bustling with guests, wearing masks from all over the world — a far cry from its somber, formal wartime air.

Suki’s mask smiles at him, a white cat with a pinched nose and upturned eyes. “Would you stop thinking about food for two seconds? Come dance with me.”

Her hand finds his, and then Sokka’s dragged out among the revelers, a hint of alcohol making his muscles feel warm and loose.

“Slow down! You’re gonna hurt someone,” he protests, but then Suki’s swinging him around and he’s laughing.

The music is loud, easy enough for Sokka to follow along, and he’s sure that there’s a dance he’s _supposed_ to be doing to it, but everyone around him is picking something different and Suki’s just making it up as she goes along, so Sokka just follows her lead. His head feels warm and syrupy, and his chest feels full; he’s got food and drink in his belly, and everything feels good. _This was a great idea,_ he thinks, _Zuko was right. Masquerades are fun._

“Mind if I cut in?” a familiar voice asks from behind Sokka — _speaking of_ — and Suki pauses, bowing in an exaggerated flourish.

“Of course.”

Sokka feels two hands at his waist spinning him around and sees a new mask, a tusked devil, red and gold with finned ears. The devil leans close, speaking near Sokka’s ear.

“I haven’t gotten to dance with you all night.” Sokka would recognize the voice of his fiancé anywhere.

“To whom do I owe this dance?” Sokka asks dramatically, spinning away with a hand outstretched, inviting Zuko to join him. Sokka grins behind his mask.

The devil laughs, taking Sokka’s hand. “An admirer.”

“A secret admirer?” Sokka goads, as Zuko joins him in the steps to a new song.

He twirls in close, and then Sokka’s breath is catching at how their chests hover near each other. All Sokka can see is flashes of Zuko’s mask.

“I suppose you could call it that.” Just like that, he’s away again, moving fluidly.

“Well, _secret admirer_ , you should know — I’m promised to another.”

Sokka presses in, to get his hands on Zuko’s waist, but then Zuko’s twisting out of reach.

“Sokka… that just breaks my heart.”

He can hear the mirth in Zuko’s voice, he’s half-laughing, smug, and mischief flashes in Sokka’s stomach.

“I know, I know. I hate to do this to you.”

“Then don’t.” The devil drags Sokka in for a conspiratorial whisper. “He’ll never know.”

Sokka’s eyebrows lift, and he wants to search Zuko’s eyes but behind the mask, he’s inscrutable. They step together, side by side.

“You think I’d do something like that? To my betrothed?”

Zuko doesn’t answer the question, just gives a theatrical sigh. “I’ve longed for you, Sokka. Dancing with you —” he traces a hand over the back of Sokka’s neck, “— it only makes me want you more.”

“Baby,” the pet name slips out, a reaction to the tingling at his neck, before Sokka can pick up the act again. He clears his throat. “Ahem, you’ve been watching me?”

“Oh, forever,” Zuko’s fingertips dance at Sokka’s, “You’re gorgeous. Your costume…”

And yeah, maybe Sokka had pushed the envelope a little. A sleeveless tunic, letting the front fall open a little too much; a brave aristocrat would tut at his impropriety, but it was worth it for Zuko’s reaction.

“Can’t I appreciate?” Sokka can hear the smile at Zuko’s lips.

“Mm… I think I’ll allow it.”

“What else will you _allow_ me?”

The song changes, and the devil takes the lead, and Sokka feels a little drunk, even though he only had the one cup. _It’s the music, and the dancing,_ Sokka thinks, _he’s got me all dizzy, spinning around like this._

Sokka swallows, feeling a hand on his arm. “Uh. What do you have in mind?”

They stop suddenly, and the hand creeps up to his bicep, lightly, like it’s unsure, but Sokka knows this is just part of the game, because Zuko sounds like he’s grinning.

“Just one night, that’s all I ask. For me?” The devil leans close, and Sokka can see the lantern-light glint off the mask’s gold leaf. “For your secret admirer _?_ ”

The other dancers are moving around them, and even though they’ve stopped moving, Sokka still feels a little lightheaded.

“Maybe. I think — I think I still need a little convincing. After all, you’re asking me to betray my fiancé.”

The devil hums, and takes Sokka’s hand in his. “Come with me.”

He lets Zuko — no, his _secret admirer_ — lead him away, past their friends, down the dim hallways of the palace. It’s getting late, and guests are beginning to scatter, but with both of them masked and wearing costumes, no one notices them enough to even give a bow, not even the guards. They weave their way into the gardens, with no one but a few sleepy ducks and chirping crickets for company. Well, and a pair of guests making out, but they pass those two by quickly.

“Where are you taking me?” Sokka hisses, like they’re doing something bad, but he’s got a goofy smile on his face. He’s glad for the mask, if only so that he can keep up the act a little more convincingly. Sokka’s never been very good at acting.

“Somewhere we can be alone.”

The devil drags him deeper into the gardens, long past the turtleduck pond, among the lush bushes and arching maple trees. The corner he picks is dark, inky with the foliage blocking out most of the moonlight, and then Zuko turns to Sokka, letting his fingers go loose in Sokka’s hand.

“Somewhere no one will find us…” he breathes, clasping Sokka’s waist. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Sokka wonders when they’re going to rip the masks off and just get on with it, but Zuko’s simply running his hands lightly over Sokka’s sides, making no sudden moves, so he decides to keep going.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Sokka says, trying to keep himself from laughing.

He considers for a moment that maybe it’s weird to pretend he’s cheating on Zuko; or maybe what they’re doing is pretending he’s cheating on someone else with Zuko. Either way, concerning? Perhaps. But with Zuko’s hands drifting to the bottom of his tunic and Sokka’s blood going hot, Sokka can’t find it in himself to care that much.

“I know, you’re a good person, Sokka.” The devil is pressing closer, and his voice gets all raspy the way Sokka likes. “You’d never want to hurt him. But, you can’t deny it — I know you want me.”

Sokka can barely see a thing, everything’s dark and fuzzy and the mask blocks out his periphery, and then he feels those fingertips brush his lower stomach and he lets out a little huff of surprise. Sokka swallows, trying to think of what to say next.

“I — I’m —”

“Only this once,” Zuko hisses, hands skating up Sokka’s shirt, across his back.

Sokka lets himself lean into Zuko’s body, presses his hips into Zuko’s — _oh, he’s getting as much out of this as I am_ — and sinks his hands into the soft hair he knows so well, tucking his chin over Zuko’s shoulder.

“I don’t know…”

“Please,” it comes out in a whine, “Sokka, take mercy on me.”

If anyone needs mercy, it’s Sokka. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”

The devil reaches up, to the back of Sokka’s head, and pulls the ribbon loose. Even with the mask falling to the ground, Sokka can’t see much; still just dark, loose shapes and the barest contours of the devil mask. However, what Sokka _can_ do is get his mouth on Zuko’s neck the way he’s been desperate to, moaning when the devil’s hips press forward in response.

“ _Yes_ , please,” he rasps, fingers pulling Sokka’s wolftail loose, too.

“I shouldn’t — ah, be doing this,” Sokka repeats, and Zuko walks Sokka back until he feels the rough bark of a tree behind him.

Zuko just presses his hips in again and moans, and Sokka nips at the skin of Zuko’s neck, fingers pulling his robe back so he can get at Zuko’s shoulder. It’s short sleeved, so much simpler than his usual Fire Lord getup, so much easier to remove… Sokka appreciates the red, gold-lined costume quite a bit.

He presses open-mouthed kisses to Zuko’s shoulder, sinking his teeth in gently when Zuko cups Sokka’s groin and palms him.

“What did you expect? Running around on display like that,” the devil says, squeezing his hand for emphasis, and Sokka bucks into the touch. He’s aching, even though they’re outside, anyone could find them — maybe especially because of that.

“Wasn’t trying to —”

Zuko cuts him off. “Of course you weren’t _trying_ to,” he whispers, working his hand under Sokka’s waistband, “You don’t _mean_ to tease everyone, do you? You have no idea, what…” he trails off, sighing when he wraps his fingers around Sokka and gets a choked moan out of him.

“I shouldn’t,” Sokka says, a weak protest. He can barely concentrate on keeping the game going anymore.

“But you are,” he hisses, his shoulder pinning Sokka’s to the tree as he tugs Sokka’s waistband down.

The devil drops to his knees, and Sokka can only hear the soft rustling of the grass and see the shifting shape of Zuko untying his mask and letting it fall to the side. Sokka can barely catch his breath with Zuko kissing his stomach, his hip, tongue evidently far more patient than Sokka’s.

“Is this what you wanted?” Sokka pants, finally getting to cup Zuko’s cheek with his palm.

“Mm, yes, been wanting it all night.”

“Fuck. Do it, then.”

Sokka catches the flash of Zuko’s eyes looking up at him, and Sokka tilts his hips forward in a suggestion, and he sees Zuko grin before taking the head in gently. Sokka can’t help his groan — the night air is cool, and Zuko’s mouth is searingly hot, and he flattens his tongue out along the bottom for a slow, broad lick. Sokka wants to move, squirm, do _something_ , but he forces himself to stay still and enjoy, and settles for tangling his fingers in Zuko’s hair.

“You tease,” Sokka sighs. Zuko stops for a moment, smirking up at him like a cat that’s got the cream.

“I only get one night, so I want to enjoy it,” he says sweetly, sucking gently on the head again.

Sokka breathes out through his nose and leans his head back against the tree, letting his eyes fall shut.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Zuko takes him deeper, proving Sokka’s point, tongue working. He’s asked for it before, so Sokka tugs at Zuko’s hair, careful to pull at the roots, and it just eggs Zuko on. He’s more enthusiastic in response, gripping Sokka’s hips to steady himself, giving little soft moans when Sokka bumps the back of his throat. Sokka thinks distantly of the other guests, wonders if they’re far enough away for anyone to hear him; _doesn’t matter,_ he decides, running a thumb over Zuko’s cheekbone.

“Just like that. So fucking good… can’t believe you…” He’s mumbling, head falling back, hips rolling. He loses himself in it, one hand pressed back against the rough tree bark to steady himself, because his knees feel loose and he can’t trust them, not fully.

“You like that? This what you wanted?” Sokka pants, gripping the roots of Zuko’s hair and pushing his hips forward in small, careful movements.

Zuko slows, looks up at him with wide eyes, and gives him a nod, mouth still wrapped hot around Sokka.

“Yeah, that’s it. This is what you wanted, isn’t it. Shit — hitting on me shamelessly.” Sokka moves in earnest, guiding Zuko’s movements with his hand, and Zuko goes pliant, eyes fluttering shut. “Fucking dragging me off, begging for me — yes, there, that’s so good.”

He bites his lip, wanting to shower Zuko in affection, but the game they’re playing is really doing it for him — for some dirty reason — and he doesn’t want to give it up just yet. Sokka watches Zuko move, going eagerly where Sokka pushes him, and makes out Zuko’s shoulder working, his hand moving.

Sokka groans and bucks up into Zuko’s mouth. “Are you touching yourself?” he gasps, and Zuko just nods and moans. “Holy shit.”

The thought that he’s just as undone as Sokka is always enough to send him spiraling. He closes his eyes against it, and then Zuko’s hot mouth is too much and he almost doubles over, trying as best as he can to keep his hips from snapping forward and making Zuko choke. They’ve made that mistake before, and Sokka hates to see Zuko uncomfortable.

When Sokka’s done panting, Zuko pulls off, wiping at his mouth. He makes to stand, but Sokka falls to his knees in the grass, cupping Zuko’s face in his hands and pulling him in for a kiss — _finally, I get to kiss you._

Zuko’s lips are swollen, messy, and he tastes funny, and it only serves to make Sokka want to press him back and kiss him silly, but Zuko pulls away. His fingers are in Sokka’s hair, tracing little circles.

“Just as good as I suspected,” he murmurs, voice shaking a touch.

Sokka smiles against Zuko’s mouth. “Good to know I live up to the hype.”

“Definitely,” Zuko says, the end of the word pitching up when Sokka sits back against the roots of the tree and pulls Zuko into his lap.

They’ve been like this many times before, but never scrambling in the dirt quite like this; their costumes are certainly a lost cause, and will probably provoke questions. Zuko grinds down onto Sokka in little circles that betray the fact that he hasn’t gotten off quite yet. His hands grip Sokka’s shoulders tightly, and the kisses he leaves at Sokka’s sweaty hairline are delicious, soft and insistent.

“I’m in… hm, so much trouble.” Zuko’s still distracting, curling over to mouth at Sokka’s neck. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“It’ll be our little secret,” Zuko breathes into Sokka’s ear, making the skin on his spine prickle.

He’s pushing harder down into Sokka, so Sokka chuckles, wrapping his arms around Zuko’s waist.

“Aw, you’re all worked up. Look at you.” That tone, the fond mocking, never failed to wring the best noises out of Zuko. “Do you want me to touch you?” Zuko nods, lips still attached to Sokka’s neck. “Did you like it when I fucked your face?”

He chokes at that and pulls back, almost growling. “Just fucking touch me already.” He huffs when Sokka grins and narrows his eyes. Zuko relents. “Please.”

“I suppose it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Zuko tries to clamber up, but Sokka grips his shoulders and pulls him down, pressing him back into the grass. There’s no way he’s not getting grass stains on his trousers — _who gives a shit._ Zuko’s shifting beneath him, kissing him hot and sloppy. Nothing else matters.

Something rustles, the shrubbery shivers, and they both freeze, breathing hard.

“What was that?” Sokka hisses.

“I dunno. A rabbit, maybe?”

Sokka waits, and then Zuko starts wriggling underneath him again. “Sokka, please.”

“Hm.” He’s hard to resist. “Just, if anyone saw us — you’d be in trouble, too, you know. Ravishing a taken man? Whatever would the court say.” Sokka can’t help his mischievous grin.

“You promised —”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want.”

Sokka lifts up, and Zuko follows, leaning with his hands propped up behind him, fingers sinking into the grass. Sokka scoots back, nudging Zuko’s legs apart, settling with his chest on the ground.

“I’m just so nervous,” Sokka fake-whines, pulling Zuko’s robe open to lick at his lower stomach. Zuko snorts, bringing one hand to run through Sokka’s hair.

He starts working Zuko’s trousers down, and Zuko takes a deep breath. “No one’s gonna find us. Who’s gonna come out here?”

“Other people looking for a place to have a tryst. Oh —” Sokka pauses, then mouths at Zuko’s erection, teasing with his tongue in the way he knows drives Zuko up the wall.

“Sokka, please. Need you so bad.” Zuko’s head falls to the side, sighing.

“But, what if —”

“Sokka, I swear, if you don’t —”

“What’re you gonna do? I’ve been so _bad_ ,” he teases, and if Sokka was having a little fun with this, who was gonna stop him?

Zuko scoffs, hips twitching. “Why don’t you get on with it already and find out?” he growls, fingers in Sokka’s hair curling, and _that’s_ exciting. Aggressive Zuko is a rare treat.

Sokka flashes a grin, but takes Zuko in his mouth just like he demanded, and Zuko’s moans grow ragged. As much as Sokka liked teasing, he could never quite tell Zuko no. It’s hot, making him fall apart under his tongue, pressed to the ground in the dark. From what Sokka can tell, pulling at the cloth of Zuko’s trousers, he’d wet them with a trail of precum at some point in the evening, a thought that makes Sokka’s belly twinge with heat again.

“So fucking dirty,” Zuko murmurs, dark and low, and yeah, Sokka’s starting to get hard again, just a little. “Yeah, you’ve been _bad_. Hnh, blowing a stranger in the gardens? You’re really asking for it,” he says, punctuating it with a thrust of his hips upward.

_Hm. Maybe I’m more of a switch than I thought._

Sokka pulls off for a moment, hand stroking Zuko. “Mmhmm, I want it.” _Not really sure what_ it _is, but I’m probably going to enjoy whatever idea he has._

Zuko takes a breath, then jerks his hips up. _Guess he’s not sure what_ it _is, either._ “Keep sucking,” he says, sharply, and Sokka complies. He’s happy to stay there while Zuko thinks of something.

After a while, when Sokka’s got Zuko panting again, Zuko swallows and says, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

 _Whatever has gotten into him tonight, I love it._ Sokka nods around him, moaning an agreement; usually Sokka’s the one to offer that, and the thought of this Aggressive Zuko taking charge makes him sweat.

“Here.” Zuko holds up Sokka’s mask, so Sokka stops and gives him a quick kiss before tying the ribbon around his head again. Zuko grabs his, and they stand clumsily. “You’re a mess.” He brushes his hands down Sokka’s clothes, straightening them, catching Sokka at half-mast accidentally.

“Again?”

Sokka gives a sheepish smile, then remembers Zuko can’t see it. “It’s your fault.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Sokka wants to muss Zuko up all over again, but forces himself to help straighten him out and then Zuko ties on the mask once more; he’s the devil again, clasping Sokka’s hand tightly and leading him back to the center of the gardens.

They take the long way to Zuko’s quarters. It would be most efficient to use the breezeway and cut through the main residential hall, but that’s dangerously full of guests that might, just maybe, notice that the Fire Lord is covered in dirt and his fiancé is half-hard. The gardens are mostly deserted, and plenty dark enough.

Sokka knows the way, he’s ready to go right up the stairs, but Zuko pulls him flush to a wall and Sokka laughs a little, hands at Zuko’s waist.

“What is it now?” Sokka whispers, pawing at Zuko’s ass impatiently.

“Just, wait a second.”

“Oh, is someone coming? Are we about to be discovered?” Sokka’s tone is playful, and he just wants to get under that devil mask so he can bite Zuko’s lip.

“No. I just think I would prefer,” Zuko says shyly, untying Sokka’s mask once again, “If you didn’t know who I was.”

He undoes the sash at his waist, folding it over itself and laying it across Sokka’s eyes.

“Hm, okay. Are you someone important?” Sokka asks, barely able to contain his glee.

“…Maybe.”

“Ooh, would we cause a scandal?” he prods, yanking Zuko in, and Zuko braces his hand against the wall behind Sokka, still clutching Sokka’s mask.

“Maybe.” That one he breathes into Sokka’s ear, and then he drags his teeth along Sokka’s neck and pulls away.

Sokka _really_ can’t see a thing with the sash over his eyes, so he lets Zuko pull him blindly forward, stepping carefully up when Zuko warns “stairs,” stumbling a little at the top. The balcony doors open and shut behind them, and then Sokka can barely see the faint glow of a few lanterns being lit; still not enough to make anything out from behind his blindfold.

Sokka pauses where he’s standing, waiting for Zuko’s touch again, but gets only instructions: “Take your clothes off.”

His stomach swoops. _Where is he getting all these amazing ideas?_ Sokka thinks, toeing off his boots, pulling off his tunic, his trousers. _The masks, the garden, the blindfold. Has he had this fantasy the whole time?_ He pauses again, naked, still Zuko-less.

Then, Zuko’s mouth is on the back of Sokka’s neck, and he can lean back into the touch. Zuko did away with the robe, but Sokka can still feel the fabric of Zuko’s trousers.

“Does he not fuck you enough?” Zuko says, voice thick, and Sokka thinks _who?_ before remembering their game. _Ah, the faceless other fiancé._ “Is that why you’re acting like this? Stripping down for me so nicely.”

Zuko slides a hand over Sokka’s cock and Sokka gasps a laugh. “No, he doesn’t.” Zuko hums against Sokka’s skin. “He ignores me. I’m — starved for affection.”

“Desperate, really,” Zuko breathes, gripping Sokka’s hips.

He guides Sokka slowly, until Sokka feels the royal bed hitting his legs and he’s pushed onto it.

“Hands and knees.”

There was an awkward edge to Zuko’s voice before, in the gardens, like he was unsure of his footing, but somewhere between the tree and the bed he had evidently figured something out, because now he’s all curt and no-nonsense the way he is in those Fire Lord meetings and Sokka _loves_ it.

Sokka settles the way Zuko asked, pushing his ass back, hoping Zuko would be there to grind against. He feels a light but sharp swat, and Sokka yelps.

“How was that?” Zuko asks, the no-nonsense voice dropping for a beat.

“Good!” Sokka says, hurriedly, “Just — surprised.” It hadn’t been nearly hard enough to hurt, and he’d given Zuko a few spanks before, but it had taken Sokka off-guard.

“Hm.” Zuko’s hand smooths over the same spot, squeezing. “Be patient.”

“Fine.” Another light swat. “Okay! I’ll be patient.”

“Good.”

Sokka stays put, and listens to Zuko’s rummaging, drawers opening and closing. “Where the fuck did I put…” he mutters to himself, and Sokka smiles.

First he feels the dip of the mattress under Zuko’s knee, and then Zuko’s palm is smoothing over the curve of his ass again. A cool, slick finger traces his rim, and Sokka sighs into it, the sweet burn of Zuko finger tucking inside. Sokka pushes back against it, listens to Zuko moan his name, feels Zuko bite into the meat of Sokka’s ass and slip another finger in alongside the first one. He curls his fingers down, to that place that makes Sokka tremble.

“Z —” he catches himself before he says the name, bites down on the inside of his cheek and sucks in a breath. “Whoever you are.” Zuko laughs, gives Sokka’s cheek a kiss. “Stars, just fuck me. Feels so fucking good.”

“Hm, you’re not ready yet.” He’s nonchalant, aloof, and something about that makes Sokka want to writhe. He works his fingers in deeper, and — _yeah, he’s right._ Just the two has Sokka moaning at the burn, and its good, but Sokka’s not used to bottoming, and Zuko’s taking his sweet time.

“Did you like this?” he asks, giving Sokka’s cheek a light tap to indicate what he meant.

“Mmhmm,” Sokka admits, weakly, fingers curling into the covers. He gets a swat, then another, and he goads, “Is that the best you can do?” and gets a hard one that makes him yelp again.

“Fuck yeah,” Sokka gasps, and then Zuko pulls his fingers almost all the way out, tracing a third one at the edge. “Yes, give me more.”

“You,” Zuko says, with another spank, “Are ill-behaved. Ask nicely.”

“Please?”

“Please what?”

Sokka sighs, and sucks in a breath when Zuko sinks his fingernails into the meat of his thigh. “ _Please_ can I have another finger?”

“There we go.” They twist in, so slow Sokka thinks he’s losing his mind every second that there’s more, and Zuko hums softly. “See what happens when you ask politely?”

Sokka turns his head to the side, but with the blindfold, he can’t glare at him the way he wants to. Zuko’s fingers thrust gently, shifting as he works Sokka open, thumb brushing at the slick rim. Sokka squirms — he’s ready, he swears he is, but Zuko’s relishing playing with him and Sokka’s been fired up again since the gardens — and he rocks back on Zuko’s hand.

“What did I tell you about being patient?” he chides, giving Sokka another swat.

“But you make it so hard,” Sokka whines.

“Oh, you mean this?” Zuko shifts, wrapping his free hand around Sokka’s cock, and Sokka moans at the touch.

“Yes,” Sokka hisses. “Just fuck me already. I’m ready now, I promise.”

The fingers slide out, and Sokka thinks he’s going to get what he wants, but then he whines when all Zuko’s touch disappears and feels his weight lift off the bed. Sokka hears Zuko sigh, then trace two now-dry hands over his back.

“Have you ever considered,” he says, giving Sokka a sharp swat, “That the reason your sweet fiancé doesn’t fuck you enough,” another swat, on the other side, “Is because you’re rude?”

“Rude?” Sokka gasps, pressing back towards him.

“Yes, rude.” Another one, firmer, that makes Sokka whine and drop down onto his elbows. “Demanding things of other people isn’t very nice.”

“I’m sorry if I _offended_ you.” Sokka’s skin is beginning to get hot and tender under Zuko’s hands. “I’m just… you’re driving me insane.”

Zuko presses a wet kiss to the flushed skin. “Alright, I’ll cut you some slack.”

“ _Finally_.”

“Watch it.”

“Sorry.”

There’s a pause, and then Sokka feels the mattress dip in front of him rather than behind, like he was expecting. Some shifting, the rustling of covers, and then Sokka start to crawl up to Zuko.

“No, stay there for a second. On your elbows, like before.”

Sokka stops, dipping down, pressing his cheek to the bed, and grins when he hears Zuko moan, along with the telltale sound of Zuko jerking himself.

“You like the view?” Zuko croaks a _yes_ , and Sokka wishes he could see his face. “You like when I’m slutty like this?” He sways, feeling a little silly, but willing to do whatever makes Zuko’s voice go all breathy and high like that.

“Yeah, I do,” and Sokka thrills at the sound of Zuko coming undone, but then he clears his throat and puts on that stern voice again that thrills in an entirely different way. “Come here.”

Sokka decides to make a show of it, crawling up Zuko’s body until he’s hovering over him, hands gripping the headboard. Zuko’s piled up a few pillows behind his back, apparently, so that he’s leaned up and can lay his mouth on the skin of Sokka’s chest. His hands guide Sokka’s hips down — he feels the brush of Zuko’s length, slicked up, alongside his own and sucks in a breath, shifting his hands from the headboard to Zuko’s shoulders instead.

“D’you want me to ride you?” Sokka asks, grinding down, and Zuko hisses. “Let me make you feel good. Please,” he amends quickly. “Let me?”

He bends down, brushing his lips over Zuko’s, pressing in for a hungry kiss. Sokka’s still got the blindfold tight over his eyes, so his senses are full of just Zuko’s tense panting and the delicious slide of Zuko’s tongue in Sokka’s mouth.

Zuko whines, hips tilting up, and then he breaks the kiss. “You’re learning.”

“Please?” Sokka tries to ask as sweetly as he can. “Can I?” He feels Zuko smile against his mouth.

“Alright.”

Sokka settles over Zuko’s hips, guiding him in. It’s a little clumsy, at first; Sokka doesn’t have too much practice at this, but then they find the right angle, and Zuko groans brokenly, fingers pressing into Sokka’s leg.

“Holy shit, Sokka.” There’s more mouthing at Sokka’s chest, and his eyes slip shut under the blindfold.

Sokka takes his time sinking down, half to punish Zuko for teasing him so much and half to let himself really get used to it. When he’s bottomed out, he rocks back and forth experimentally, rolling his hips to get used to the feel of him.

“Sokka, love, please move.”

He grins. _I’ve got the upper hand, now._

“Like this?” Sokka presses down on Zuko’s shoulders, lifting up and sinking back as slow as he can manage.

“Yes, like that,” Zuko breathes, and Sokka guesses that the stern voice is gone for good.

He finds a rhythm, painfully slow, dragging it out as long as he can until Zuko is grabbing at his ass and trying to pull him down faster. Sokka laughs, stilling, rocking again.

“Stop teasing,” he whines, a desperate edge to his voice.

“So demanding!” Sokka teases, finding a rhythm again. “Who’s rude now?”

Zuko groans. “You’re the worst.”

“That’s no way to talk to the man riding you.”

“Sokka —”

“If you can’t ask nicely I’m going to stop.” An empty threat. “Beg for what you want, baby.”

“Please, Sokka… stars, please. Go faster — need it, feels so fucking good —”

He takes mercy, then, clutching Zuko’s shoulders for leverage and riding him hard. Zuko moans underneath him, one hand on Sokka’s flexing leg and one on his cock, squeezing and stroking, and then he props his legs up behind Sokka and gets his hips at a better tilt that has Sokka’s eyes going glazed over behind the blindfold.

“Zuko — yes, fuck —” he realizes, too late, that their game is over now, but — whatever, he’s where he wants to be, and he’s got Zuko exactly where he wants him.

“You look so… so hot,” Zuko gasps, and Sokka smiles, focusing on moving his hips faster.

“That’s right, baby. You like me like this? You like me riding your cock?”

“ _Stars,_ yes —”

Zuko’s hand on him is going to be his undoing. “Zuko — keep touching me just like that —”

He’s been hard for so long, teased so cruelly (in Sokka’s opinion), that he comes, hard, like he’s being thrown against a wall, so hard it knocks the breath out of him. Zuko’s saying something about _look so fucking good_ , and Sokka feels it hit his stomach, feels himself start to get tender and oversensitive. His legs feel weak, trembly, but he tries his best, for Zuko —

“— for you baby, wanna keep riding you —”

Zuko lets him go, holds Sokka’s hips firmly, and thrusts up into Sokka so sharply that Sokka just has to stay still and let Zuko do what he needs. Sokka starts to slump forward, to kiss Zuko messily, and it’s a different kind of good, letting Zuko fuck him, and Sokka thinks dazedly that he gets why Zuko likes letting Sokka take control so much.

Neither of them speak, just groan and pant into each other’s mouths until Zuko clutches Sokka tight and stops, hips going slow. They breathe for a moment, Sokka slumped over Zuko, Zuko’s hands falling limp to the side.

Finally, Zuko reaches up and pushes the sash off Sokka’s eyes and onto his forehead. Sokka squints, blinking; the bedroom is dim, but after so long in the dark it’s still an adjustment. He looks down at Zuko and smiles loosely.

“Hey,” Zuko murmurs, pulling the sash gently off. “It’s me.”

“I had no idea.” Sokka can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles up, and then Zuko’s eyes crinkle and he’s laughing too, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Yeah, big surprise.” Zuko catches his breath and sighs, petting Sokka’s sweaty hair back from his eyes. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Are you kidding?” Sokka lifts, wincing a little at the odd feeling of Zuko sliding out of him. “It was super hot.”

“C’mere, let’s go wash off.” They make their way gingerly to the bathroom, and Zuko begins drawing a bath.

 _I don’t know how he does this every time,_ Sokka thinks, carefully cleaning himself with a damp cloth as Zuko presses a palm to the bath, and then its steaming hot. When he wraps his arms around Sokka, he smells a little like sweat, and kisses the top of Sokka’s shoulder gently.

They sink into the tub, Zuko’s back to Sokka’s chest, water sloshing, and it smells like soap and jasmine. Sokka noses at Zuko’s ear, sighing. It’s relaxing, and really helping the slight headache he’d begun to develop as the night’s alcohol left his system.

“You,” Sokka murmurs into Zuko’s ear, smiling at the way Zuko squirms at the tickling feeling, “are an evil mastermind.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A secret admirer? Taking me to the gardens? The fucking blindfold?”

“Ah.” Zuko shifts against Sokka’s chest.

“Were you planning that, or did you just make it up on the spot?” Sokka traces his fingers over the line of Zuko’s shoulder.

“I kind of just — went along with what you were saying. I don’t know.”

“Oh come on, don’t be modest. You were the one calling the shots.” He kisses Zuko’s cheek. “I loved it.”

Zuko’s silent for a moment, sinks deeper into the water, and then asks, “Could we do it again sometime?”

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally just going to end this in the gardens and then things got away from me really fast. Happy Halloween!


End file.
